


Matters Of The Heart

by Falling_into_oblivion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Rewrite, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Snapshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:58:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7450438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falling_into_oblivion/pseuds/Falling_into_oblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Harry grew up living with his Auntie Minnie (Minerva McGonagall) and Uncle Remus, things end up... rather different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matters Of The Heart

**Author's Note:**

> The one reason I wrote this was because I fell in love with Harry calling Minerva 'Auntie Minnie', but I don't care and you can sue me if you wanna 'cause I love it. Hope you enjoy!

 “Auntie Minnie, Auntie Minnie!” I yelled delightedly as she picked me up, spinning me around in a tight circle before setting me back down and patting my head affectionately, “I met the strangest girl at the park today with Uncle Remus.”  
“Oh really?” She was smiling in that way she did sometimes, when I did something that reminded her of my parents. It was a nice smile, just curling up the edges of her lips, but something about it also seemed rather sad. “Why don’t we sit down and you can tell me all about her?”  
I nodded quickly, pouncing on her lap and curling up around her as soon as she sat down. Auntie Minnie was always the best to give cuddles- better than Uncle Remus even- and she loved to indulge me every time.  
Even now she was running a hand through my hair, waiting expectantly for me to continue. “She was reading a book underneath a tree when I got there and it seemed pretty strange. You got to the park to play, and not to read books! So I asked her why she was sat all alone and she said she didn’t really know how to talk to others and preferred to sit and read. She seemed really happy when I told her I’d be her friend though, and she has really pretty curly hair too!”  
“And does this mystery girl have a name?” Auntie Minnie was full out grinning now, seeming much younger than her actual years as the stern lines that marked her face softened.  
“Hermione Granger!” I yelled excitedly, “And she said she’d be at the park again next week too, so I can see her again, right?”  
“Of course you can Harry,” She sighed, kissing my forehead gently, “We’ll have to see if we can get Mrs Longbottom to let Neville go as well.”  
“Thanks Auntie,” I settled down further into her embrace, burying my face in her chest as her arms encircled me, “I love you.”  
“I love you too, dear.”

 

“Harry!” Hermione whined, tugging on my arm as my attention was caught yet again by another stall, a whole manner of magical artifacts on display, ranging from self pouring tea sets (which I was quite sure Auntie Minnie might like for christmas) to what looked to be sets of charmed jewellery, though to do what he wasn’t quite sure. “Harry, we were told to go straight to Flourish and Blotts.”  
I relented, sliding my hand into her own after hearing the note of plaintive note of worry in her tone. This was the first time she’d ever been to Diagon Alley, and whilst I had been before it was always with someone else. Mr and Mrs Granger were in a long queue at the bank though, and Auntie Minnie had to nip off on some Hogwarts business, so we were sent straight to the book shop to await them after they had finished.  
“Okay, okay,” I smiled, gently tugging her along in what I was quite sure was the right direction, “You’re going to love Flourish and Blotts ‘Mione. All the walls are bookshelves and they’re all completely full! There’s a second floor and everything, and they have everything you could ever want.”  
“That does sound rather great,” She admitted, blushing as she always did at the nickname I gave her shortly after we first met. Hermione was rather a long name, it was just easier to call her ‘Mione. “Aren’t you at all worried about all of this though, Harry? I mean, Hogwarts will be so different to, well, anything we’ve ever seen before.”  
I shrugged, “Auntie Minnie teaches Transfiguration there, and she says all the teaches are really capable and most of them are nice. She always tells really good stories about the castle and all her old students, so really I can’t wait to go.”  
“If only I had your confidence,” She smiled, appeased by my answer. Auntie Minnie had been assuring her for most of the summer, after she had gotten her letter, that everything would be fine, but she was still very nervous.  
“Yeah, but then you’d have no need for me,” I pouted, inwardly celebrating in relief once I saw the book shop. For a moment there, I was worried we’d gotten lost.  
“I’ll always have need of you, Harry!” We both blushed as the words slipped from her lips, and she quickly hurried on ahead, dragging me along by the hand, “Now come on, with the way you’ve been dithering over everything I won’t be surprised if mum and dad are there already.”  
“Now you sound like Uncle Remus,” I grinned, and we both laughed.

“This is it,” She squeezed my hand, purposefully not paying attention to the strange looks we were receiving from some of the other first years. “Oh, I hope I’m in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.”  
“You will be,” I whispered, hoping she didn’t notice my sweaty palms. Despite my earlier confidence, I could feel the nerves steadily creeping up on me, fear a writhing pit of snakes in my stomach.  
Auntie Min- Professor McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor, so what would she think if I didn’t get in? Uncle Remus had been in Gryffindor too, as well as both of my parents and most of their friends. Would they be disappointed in me if I were to go to another house? Mad?  
“So will you,” She squeezed my hand, “You’re the bravest, most kind person I know.”  
“Thanks ‘Mione,” I nudged her with my hip when Aun- Professor McGonagall arrived, looking sternly down at us all. It was only because I knew her well that I saw the slight trace of warmth in her eyes, and when her eyes landed on Hermione and I she winked before turning her backs to us all and pushing the doors of the Great Hall open.  
“Now, form a line,” She was using the tone she usually reserved to lecture me with, and I had to fight back a smirk, “And follow me.”  
It was almost as though my legs had turned to jelly as I wobbled forwards, hanging tightly onto Hermione for support. She was clinging just as tightly onto me, and we leant into each other as we stumbled along, sending glances to each other every so often before turning away as we had to fight back giggles.  
Gently, I pushed Hermione so she was in front of me as we approached the Hall, and she sent me on last searching look before our attentions were drawn to the strange and splendid sight that was the Great Hall.  
It was lit by thousands of candles that floated in mid air above four great tables, each full of watchful students, whose bright eyes seemed to follow us as we moved along. One or two pointed at me, whispering behind their hands “It’s Harry Potter,” and I tried desperately to ignore the burning in my cheeks.  
They were easily forgotten though, when I caught a glimpse of the ceiling, which looked rather more like the sky outside, velvety black and sprinkled with a smattering of stars. It was hard to believe that there was actually a ceiling there at all, and the Great Hall did not simply open up into the heavens.  
As we lined up in front of the staff table, facing the students, I reached for Hermione’s hand again and heard her whisper, “It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read it in Hogwarts: A History.”  
“Of course you did,” I teased back, “You read everything in those books of yours.”  
“Hush,” She nudged me, and it was then that I realised the hat on the three footed stool that had been set in front of us was speaking. It was patched and frayed, yet you would be a fool not to notice the powerful scent of ancient magic in the air that surrounded it, a large rip in the brim opening wide as words spilled forth in song.  
When it was over I was amongst the other students who burst into applause, laughing lightly at the look of stunned amazement on many of the other first year’s faces. Uncle Remus had told me many stories of the sortings during his time at Hogwarts, and he always spoke of his own quite fondly as it was at that time he met my father. Apparently, the sorting hat sang a different song every year, which was a rather amazing feat if it were true and his Uncle wasn’t just playing him for a fool. Though Aunt- Professor McGonagall agreed, so it must have been really true.  
My inner musings about how believable Uncle Remus truly was quickly drew to a halt when Au-Professor McGonagall called out the first name. “Abbot, Hannah!”  
A rather pink-faced girl with long, blonde pigtails approached the hat cautiously, perching on the edge of the stool as she pulled it on, the hat falling right down over her eyes. It seemed to take a few moments to consider before the brim opened and it yelled out, loud enough that it’s voice echoed around the Hall, “HUFFLEPUFF!”  
The table on the right burst out cheering and clapping loudly as Hannah went off to join them, seeming more than a little relieved when they made space for her on the bench, patting her on the back as she sat down. Even the ghost of the Fat Friar was waving merrily at her.  
Perhaps if everyone in Hufflepuff was so nice, it wouldn’t be such a bad house to go to after all. Professor Sprout had come to visit a few times and she always seemed wonderful, if a little air headed at times.  
The line steadily dwindled as more and more names got called out. Everyone was different. Sometimes that hat took time to shout out the house, but at others it called a house out just as soon as it touched the person’s head. Hopefully my own sorting wouldn’t take too long, as it would be rather embarrassing to have to sit for a prolonged amount of time on the stool, under the gaze of so many eyes.  
Soon enough it was Hermione’s name being called out. I gave her hand one last pump as she pulled away, running to the stool and jamming the hat eagerly on her head, all nerves forgotten. It was barely a moment before the hat was shouting “GRYFFINDOR!”  
This time I clapped along with the other Gryffindors, ignoring the strange looks I was receiving from the other first years as I cheered for my best friend. She sent me the thumbs up before jogging off to join her new house table, grinning broadly.  
I was so sure she would go to Ravenclaw as well, though I was glad she went to Gryffindor in the end. Now all I had to do was get into the same house, and everything would be perfect. As the line continued to dwindle, I struggled to maintain steady breathes, feeling altogether too hot underneath my new school robes.  
Until, finally, “Potter, Harry!”  
Oh God, oh God, oh God. I cringed when I stepped forward, whispers breaking out across the hall like little hissing fires. Doing my best to ignore them, I sat on the stool, the last thing I saw before the hat dropped over my eyes being Hermione’s hopeful face amidst the crowd of unfamiliar faces.  
“Hmm,” A small voice in my ear hummed, “Difficult, very difficult indeed. Plenty of courage I see, and not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes- and a nice thirst to prove yourself. Now that’s interesting... but where to put you?”  
I gripped the edges of the stool tightly, knuckles turning white in my effort not to run screaming from the hall and forget all about Hogwarts, but no, I could do this.  
“Interesting, interesting,” The hat continued to speak into my mind, voice rolling around, “Well, I think we’ll just have to settle for GRYFFINDOR!”  
The last word was shouted to the whole Hall, so loud it was almost deafening. I couldn’t help but sigh in relief as I set the hat carefully back on the stool and hurried to join Hermione, hugging her as I slipped onto the bench by her side.  
“I can’t believe I made it,” I mumbled into her hair, entire body shaking, “God, I never want to do that again.”  
“You won’t have to,” She laughed, patting my arm consolingly before turning back to watch the last three get sorted, “Though if I knew you were as big of a scaredy-cat as this before..”  
“Hush,” I poked her arm, “I’m not scared. I’m just... cautious. Yeah, cautious!”  
“Sure thing, Harry,” She sighed, “Sure thing.”

“Now, I’m not saying that I hate Snape,” I flung myself down in between Ron and Hermione on the couch in Gryffindor’s common room, poking the latter in the arm so she lifted her book for me to see what she was reading. A simple guide to fairy tales and their origins. Interesting. “But I really wouldn’t mind if he was boiled alive in his own cauldron.”  
Ron snorted in agreement, but Hermione only sighed, “He’s a teacher Harry, he’s supposed to be strict.”  
“He’s not strict, he’s evil!” I protested.  
“Yeah, he really does seem to hate you mate,” Ron grinned, receiving an elbow to his ribs for his efforts, “Hey, you know I’m right!”  
“Teachers don’t hate their students,” Hermione was still refusing to accept it, setting down her book on the arm of the chair as she turned to us, “It’s not allowed.”  
“Just ‘cause it’s not allowed, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen ‘Mione,” I grumped, “You’re just being unfair.”  
“And you’re being childish!” She burst out, standing up all of a sudden, “When will you grow up?!”  
“Wait, ‘Mione,” I called out, reaching out for her, but she was already storming up to the Girl’s Dormitories and refused to turn back. “What did I do?” I turned to Ron, raising my hands. “Jesus, what is up with her?”  
“I don’t know mate,” Ron was trying to stifle his laughter behind his hand, and failing, “But you sure screwed up whatever it was.”

Whatever it was turned out to be me forgetting the anniversary of the day we met, which she eventually forgave me for after much grovelling and gift giving. That didn’t stop me complaining to Auntie Minnie every time we fell out though.  
“She’s so mercurial! It’s like one moment she’s completely normal and then the next she’s yelling at me for no reason, and expecting me to know why. Yesterday she even shouted at me for making too much noise. I wasn’t even making any noise- I was reading!”  
She regarded me calmly over her mug of tea, amusement shimmering in her eyes as she watched me rant, hands flying about in the air in my agitation. When I was finished she sighed, before retrieving a tin and offering, “Biscuit, Harry?”  
“No, I bloody well would not like a biscuit,” I seethed, before cowering under her glare, “I mean thank you very much, Auntie.”  
“Better,” She nodded approvingly as I gingerly took a custard cream, chewing on the edge in thought.  “Look dear, have you ever considered asking Miss Granger about the issue?”  
“No,” I blushed, turning away from her condescending look, “I’ve never had to before. Usually we just get each other, and now she’s acting like such a girl and I-”  
“Have you also never considered the fact that Miss Granger is, in all actuality, a girl?” She sounded increasingly amused, much to my annoyance.  
“N-no.”  
“Harry, in all your fifteen years, I would have thought that you had more sense than this,” She laughed outright. “Talk to the girl, show her that you care.”  
“Of course I care!” I burst out, “I love her!”  
“Then tell her that,” She shook her head, offering me another biscuit, “I swear, you’re worse than your father when it comes to matters of the heart.”  
“You said he was always confessing his undying affections to mum.”  
“That doesn’t mean he was smart about it,” She smiled that same old smile again, though as time continued it grew less sad, “That just meant he was determined.”

“Hermione!” She carried on walking, ignoring my calls, “Hey, Hermione!”  
“What!?” She spun around, hair flying about, still as pretty and curly as when we were children, “What could you possibly want now?”  
“I wanted to talk.” She looked about ready to storm off again, so I hastily continued, “About us. Me and you. Together.”  
“What about us?” Suspicion so clear in her arched brow, hip cocked to one side as she balanced her books in the dip of her waist, clearly having been on her way to the library.  
“Look,” I glanced around, glad to see that the hallway was empty of other students, “I really like you, and I know we’ve been fighting a lot lately, but I want to make that right. I just... I just really don’t know how ‘Mione.”  
“You’re as clueless as Ron sometimes,” She was smiling even as she was rolling her eyes, “And I’m sorry, for yelling all the time.”  
“I’m sorry too, for what it’s worth,” I grinned, relief flooding through me, “Just, why?”  
“I’ve been throwing hints sine fourth year Harry, and we’re almost in sixth now,” She laughed, “I didn’t know whether you didn’t reciprocate or you were just stupid.”  
“Stupid,” I smirked, wrapping her up in a hug and burying my face in her hair, “Definitely, definitely stupid. I love you ‘Mione.”  
“Love you too, stupid,” She slung her free arm around my back, pressing a chaste kiss to my chin before pressing her face to my shoulder.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I was pacing the small space at the front of the church, running sweaty palms on the front of my suit, “This is way worse than the sorting.”  
“Relax, mate,” Ron laughed, watching as guests began to fill the empty pews. He waved to his family as they entered, grinning and giving the thumbs up to his little girl. “Everything is going to be fine.”  
“What if she does a runner,” I moaned, “Or if she decides she doesn’t love me after all and calls it off, or if she just decides to not turn up at all.”  
“Do you have absolutely no faith in her at all?” He seemed bemused as he stopped watching the guests, raising his eyebrow. “Hermione loves you more than anyone else in the world, mate. If you don’t know that by now then you are definitely worse than me.”  
I didn’t reply, instead trying to focus on the guests. Uncle Remus was sat with Auntie Minnie up at the front, looking better than he had in a long time. He was bouncing Teddy on his knee, much to the little boy’s delight as he squealed, and Tonks leant into his side as she whispered something across to Auntie Minnie. When she saw me she winked, giving me a broad grin and making Teddy wave. I waved back before turning around once more, nerves only continuing to pile up.  
“Tell me when it’s time,” I pleaded with Ron, not ready to turn around until I was sure she stood at the entrance. Whoever said getting married was the best day of your life clearly hadn’t experienced the wait up until everything actually began, when the fear crept in and turned everything to hell.  
All too soon, the guests were quieting down and Ron was whispering, “It’s time.”  
The wedding march started up, and as I turned my breath was stuck in my throat for something wholly different than fear. Hermione looked... indescribable. Something more than beautiful and infinitely more powerful than enchanting, utterly divine as she walked arm in arm with Mr Granger, eyes shiny with unshed tears.  
The dress was simple, lace covering her arms and the tight fit offsetting how slender she really was. Simple and yet all the more gorgeous for it, the arm that wasn’t hooked around her father’s holding tight to a bouquet of red tulips.  
When she eventually reached me, and her father offered me her hand, I took it quite willingly, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin before linking her fingers with my own. Tracing my lips along the shell of her ear, I whispered so that only she could hear, “You still have pretty hair, even if it isn’t quite as curly anymore.”  
She smiled at that, tears still threatening to fall down her cheeks. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”  
“Yeah, we really are.”

“We are not naming one of our first children Albus Severus Potter, no matter if it’s because of Professors Dumbledore and Snape or not.”  
“But ‘Mione-”  
“No means no.”  
“Not even just Al-”  
No.”  
“Fine,” I sniffed, crossing my arms and mimicking her stance. We had been arguing about baby names for the past few weeks, and though we had both agreed to name the girl Lily Minerva, we had yet to settle on any acceptable boys names.  
“Harry,” She tried in a much gentler tone, resting a hand on my arm, “It’s not that I don’t want to honour their memories, it’s just that I’d much rather do it in a way that didn’t affect our future child. He’d be the laughing stock of the playground.”  
“You don’t like the names, do you?” I sighed, leaning back against the kitchen counter where dinner sat half prepared.  
“Not really, no.”  
“Okay,” I deflated, “Then what?”  
She paused, deliberating for a few seconds whilst idly rubbing a hand over her swollen belly. “James. James Remus.”  
I nodded, placated, as I placed my hand over hers, “That’s perfect.”  
“You’re not getting all emotional on me now, are you?”  
“Not at all.”  
“You’re crying.”  
“Just stray dust.” She laughed, pressing a hand to my cheek, running her thumb over my skin in a way that elicited a small shiver down my spine. “Honestly, it’s just stray dust.”  
“Of course it is.”

“I swear, we should have stopped after the first two,” I groaned, “’Mione’s always tired or angry or both, and James and Lily have been driving me up the wall.”  
“Now you know how I felt, all those years ago,” Auntie Minnie laughed, watched her two godchildren as they ran around chasing each other. “Your parents were quite the handful in their time as well.”  
“At least you didn’t have to put up with them nonstop,” I laughed, “I’ll be glad when they go to Hogwarts, though it’s a shame you retired.”  
“I’m old now, dear,” She smiled that same smile, though there was no sadness present at all now. I rested my hand over hers, squeezing it lightly.  
“Yeah, but you’ll always be my auntie Minnie.”


End file.
